Lightning Tracker

For those of you practicing kinetics, this lightning tracker site could be right up your alley.

Lightning Tracker

Whether you're studying the divining arts, or you have your hand in atmoskinetics, you'll find this web site to be of particularly good taste for your work and study.

In the Pursuit of Magic and Destiny

Like my mentor before me, the grand master of psionics, Charles W. Cosimano, I firmly believe in the right of the individual to pursue his/ her own destiny despite what other people might protest.

 

The universe sort of nudges magicians along until we are ready to influence our will upon it. Here is a story of my own experiences as a young and budding magician.

In my teen years I was drawn to a book written by Charles W. Cosimano, with the title: Psionic Power. A spiritual force moved me over to the only copy of this book, and I took it home with me. Something like a year after, I kept this book with me to reference, study over and over, and digest the information within it.

During a camping trip I encountered a gang of young men who beat me up and threw me into a river. It was a night I’ll never forget. But, alas, when I woke up, and checked myself for bruises and broken bones, a visitor came to me.

I sat there around the camp in a lawn chair—as I said, checking myself for broken bones, and finding that I had fractured my head—when a shadow drew over me. I looked up into the earthy face of an American Indian. He handed a coverless book to me. The parchment was moist and yellow. I asked why he was giving me this book. To this the Indian replied that the book had washed up against some rocks on the river next to my camp. He said that it must belong to me. He was certain of it, and that it was important to return it to me. I looked through the pages, seeing the inner title page was still intact. The title read Psionic Power, by Charles W. Cosimano.

When I looked up, the Indian was out of sight.

This wasn’t the only time when the universe nudged me along to get me on to the path of purpose and the pursuit of my destiny. When I was seven my family moved to Riyadh, Saudi Arabia. It was while I lived in Riyadh that I played my first game of Dungeons and Dragons. It was also in the Arabian desert where I encountered the invisible entities who dwell therein the desert.

A voice sounded to my inner ear, “Over here!”

I looked, and I saw that there were dust devils, small and spinning like dancing ladies over the churning sands of Arabian desert. For whatever reason I instinctively knew that I could manipulate or influence the movement of these little twisters. A voice came again, “Over here”. And when I looked up, there I saw the biggest dust devil I have seen ever since. It towered high into the reddish funnel cloud, and it came down a path in the desert just off and a ways from me. I stood in its path, testing all my courage (or stupidity), and the twister hit me. My ears were filled with sand. More interestingly, an electrical vibe passed through my body. And as I walked away from that place in the sands, I could hear behind me the giggling of children. I looked and saw no one as far as the eye can see. Only the mirage on the horizon.

Later, when I was a teen, the spirit encounters intensified. These encounters included everything from manifestations to being paralyzed. I’ve seen portals open, some of a white diamond shape with angular beings within, and others shadowy, spiraling, and tentacles flailing about on the ceiling. When my house shook, and the halls creaked under the strain of the entity’s presence, I decided to send it away, and tell it to leave my presence. The next thing I remember is being able to see outlines around plants, objects, and people.

When I eventually came into contact with Charles Cosimano, I was a late teen. The year was 1988-89. I trained under Chuck’s occasional guidance, and even became distant friends with my mentor. In the year of 2003, Charles W. Cosimano admitted to me that I was his greatest student, and that most people are just crazy (But your ideas actually work! He would go on saying over the phone.)

Over the decades I’ve discovered that I can really manipulate kinetics—That is, anything that is in motion or active at present. So, I went on to create a system called Kinetic Magic.

See: bit.ly/kineticmagic

In the Pursuit of Independent Knowledge...

In pursuit of independent knowledge, you are set apart from others of the collective body. However, you are never alone. 

The body social is ignorant of the independent thinker's genius. Forever shall it be, perhaps. What makes the pursuit of independent knowledge so great is the way in which it works. That is, this attainment of power comes from that which only you, as an individual, can access in ways that your own system can. The way you are wired is different from all others. Other people become more and more like the automatons of dystopian fiction. And you are forever set apart from the masses, and often labeled a villain. An outcast at the least. Eccentric at best. But never a hero shall you be to those who know not value or etiquette. The vulgar and lowly disinterest you, and the moronic fools who surround you are more of an annoyance than good company. Far better company is the haunted of the dark, the spirits of the aether, and those of the cosmos. 

When I, for example, meditate on simply becoming aware of my aura, I gradually slip into a state of retrospect. That is, I begin taking n whatever abilities I've managed to develop in the past, and bring these up to my level of ordinary awareness. For me, this is a good thing. A great thing. For others it is useless, at least in any direct way. In the long run, sure, others may benefit from my accomplishments. Though, this is truly no significant consideration for yourself. As a species, perhaps this is a consideration to benefit others. However, other people will tend to be unable to accept your contributions to the whole of society, mostly because the mass mind does not exist for evolutionary gain, nor does it truly prosper in and of itself. 

As my old mentor once wrote, "Society is always wrong!" And he is right. There can be no solid argument against this statement, as those of us who have read enough of history can attest to. 

But, enough about others. The important thing is for you, dearest independent thinker, to pursue your destiny. To know this destiny, you need only clear your mind, and the information from Father Universe will beam down into your mind from the infinite darkness of the realm of true freedom. 

There are some interesting methods others of our kind have written down for you as merely guidelines. Feel free to break away from these guides once you have gained some insights of your own. Mine invention was the telepathy rod (a tube fitted over an amplifier pattern), and which Charles, himself, has tested to positive results. This arrangement of mine, however, works best for general stuff. More specific focuses, earthly matters and societal, are best accomplished with some of the instruments outlined on my mentor's web page, and detailed in his books. These books are, as a matter of course, free to read. Courtesy of Charles. 

If you're not seeking independent knowledge, then you're not living. Truly, we do not exist for the masses. Opinions on the networks of television are for the stupid and the ignorant. My readers are solid independent thinkers who stand apart from the rest of the world. 

How Became Vrilock and Kinetic Magick?

It's just a name that means vril magick. My birth name is Thomas. As to how I became who I am, well, that's another story altogether. It really begins with a story about acceptance. Tolerance. Patience. And realization. 

When I was nine months old, my mother left me in the kitchen sink to bathe. It was only for a brief moment to get my towel or something that mom left the room. In her place was a spirit apparition, a women with long black hair. She had a certain sense of envy about her, envy of my mother caring for me, I think. These entities surrounded me often enough that I can recall many occasions where I never truly felt alone.

When I was six and just about turning seven, my family moved from the United States to Saudi Arabia. It was one late afternoon in the desert when I encountered something of a different kind of spirit than I'd detected at earlier stages of my toddler life. I ventured away from our car, and over a dune or hill. Something drew me. I could hear children playing, but I could not see them. I looked out onto the horizon to behold a grand mirage of smoke or vapor on the desert, resembling water from so far a distance. 

A dust devil appeared. And then another following the first one. I called out for it to turn left and right, and it did so. Then, one of the little twisters stopped as if in regarding me. It disappeared. I heard in my mind "Hey. Over here." I looked to my side and saw a colossal tower of sand spinning down the alley. I felt challenged, and so I held my ground. (As a little kid I was a real fighter type. I later mellowed out as a teen). 

So, I get hit by this tower of sand and wind. My ears are plugged with sand. But it was the electric sensation which I noticed more than this. I felt a kind of surge go into me. I ran, and I heard laughter behind me. 

Years later, I was visited by a dark spirit or dark angel. My house shook when my mother entered the room. The spirit was frustrated, wanting to have me for some purpose. I awakened the next day, walked out the front door and took a look at the sunny sky. I then noticed that all the vines on the hall entrance outside had a sheath of transparency about them. I tried to touch it, when I noted that my hands also had this very same aura. Everything did. It worries me at first. I thought I was hallucinating, or that my vision had changed. 

When I was seventeen, ,my mother asked me to go to a new age bookstore with her. It was for fun, of course. I still didn't believe my experiences were anything more than imaginary or simply supernatural and beyond my control. Gods joke, I thought. But, we went into the store, I more reluctantly, and a book drew me over to it. I felt a sort of breeze draw me over. It was the only book of this title. I picked it up, looking at it as if it were made of gold. The title read 'Psionic Power, by Charles W. Cosimano'. Keep this book in mind for the next event. 

I was eighteen, and while on a camping trip with my cousin, I was beaten and thrown into a river. The next day, I was checking myself for broken bones, when an Indian or Native American man walked up to me, and handed me a small pile of yellowed pages. He said that he tried to dry them. I asked, how it was hat he knew it was mine. To this he replied, that the book he had seen wash all down the river, and stopped at my campsite. The water brought it to my camp, he said, and so it belonged to me. Yes, the book which had washed up to my camp read 'Psionic Power', although the cover had been destroyed, and yet all the sigils of Solomon were in perfect condition, and as well the rest of the pages, quite miraculously. 

Many days passed in which I reflected upon the gravity and reality of my life. So, I picked up a pen and paper, and I wrote to Charles Cosimano. He and I became mentor and student, master and apprentice for a time. We also became friends, noting that so many things we thought about alike, and at the same time, and our love for everything pizza, black shirts, and we even had the same hairstyle or lack thereof (I've always preferred to just slick it back a bit than try styling it. This is good, because my helmet messes it up anyway). 

Over years I learned that I could not only send zigzag patterns of energy at winds to break trees and neighboring windows, but that I could do just about anything I put my mind to. 

Thus, I became the creator of a new sect of magic called kinetic magic. Really, it is more of a philosophy than a technology. For instance, there is no reason why my kinetic magic blog should open when I log in to vrilock, but I was thinking of the former before I came back online. Thus, mysteriously kinetic magic blog UI was open. Should of been vrilock, because that is the last blog I logged into through the app. So, it isn't science. Power is the stuff dreams are made of.